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When I lived with my ex, when Penny was about four or five, we brought a second cat into the home. It took Penny a week or two before she stopped trying to tear Artemis (the kitten)'s throat out. Artemis would often instigate things, though.
Penny is about seven years old now. She's much more docile now than she used to be (having been fixed, and not having my ex around, who she hated). I'm actually fairly optimistic, other than being paranoid I might do something to make it worse.
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We're not gonna die. We can't die, Bendis. You know why? Because we are so...very...pretty. We are just too pretty for God to let us die.
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